


Truth Comes Down

by ssa_archivist



Series: The Worthy [4]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Drama, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-10-21
Updated: 2002-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-01 10:38:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/355704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a "How I Spent the Month after Vortex by Lex Luthor' story. Starts the night after 'Debt in the Blood' but can be read as a standalone. Available as an eBook on my site.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth Comes Down

## Truth Comes Down

by ShimmyGloss

<http://vleonard.com/shimmygloss/>

* * *

Truth Comes Down 

* * *

I. Secrets in Steel 

I was standing just inside the open door of my dark garage, thinking about Clark, as I looked out into the night. I hadn't had my lover in my arms since before my father's arrival, and it was killing me. 

First, the panic of finding a way to save the plant, then the dance, then the storm, then my father. Then I spooked the boy by killing a man in his presence, a man I had lied about. 

The only bright spot in the last several days, I couldn't even remember. Clark came by and put me to bed last night after I passed out from stress, exhaustion, and alcohol. At least, he was willing to be in the same room with me. 

Today's email from him was hurried, containing more spelling errors than usual. Storm brought fences down, cows escaping, how about tomorrow? I emailed back: go get the rogue cows, big meeting in Metropolis tomorrow, I'll call... 

The sound of the approaching engine brought me back to the present. A flicker of light in the darkness. They were on the grounds now. The sound grew louder, the dimmed headlights nearer. 

The tow truck turned around in front of the garage and backed the cradle in. The car was too badly damaged to simply tow. Two men got out of the truck. The driver nodded to me. Silently, they released the bolts, and slid the car onto my garage floor. Then, the driver came over to me. 

"Any trouble, Tom?" 

"No, Mr. Luthor, sir." 

"Thank you," I said, holding out the bag. 

He grinned as he took it. "Thank you, Mr. Luthor." 

"Good night, Tom," I said, walking away from him, and into the garage. I waited until they drove off the grounds, then closed the door. The darkness was absolute. I had even disconnected the rechargers. 

My hand fumbled for the toggle. I found it, and squinted in the sudden brightness. I grabbed a pair of latex gloves from the counter, and put them on. Then, I walked into the brightest circle of light, and took a long, hard look at the mangled wreck that had been Roger Nixon's car. 

None of the doors would open, so I went in through a window. I pocketed the car registration and proof of insurance. There were some CDs, but they were all commercially burnt. A suit bag in the back seat contained a jacket, a tie, and two shirts. Nothing here. I climbed out. 

Opening the truck required a crowbar. A spare and jack, flares, a first aid kit. Also a carry-on bag, containing underclothes, a shaving kit, a cell phone battery, a detective novel, and four energy bars. 

A bag yielded a tape recorder and a wireless receiver. Roger had planted bugs. And taped what he heard. There was every chance he had been spying on me, as well as on Clark. I would have to have Roger's house checked. 

There was a video camera bag, containing batteries and two blank hi-8 tapes. The camera was not in the car. It was probably still out in the woods. That meant there was also at least one more tape. I was going to have to send Tom out to find them. 

Fortunately, I knew where to look, having been a party to the taking of statements. Jonathan had been quite forthcoming in his recounting of recent events. He and Roger met when they got caught in the storm, and were buried in the crypt by a falling house. Said house later tipped over in the wind, allowing their escape. 

There was a certain uneasiness when the sheriff asked why Roger wanted Jonathan dead. My spurious hypothesis that the man's mind had snapped, owing to the lack of oxygen and the perceived certainty of imminent death, was quickly, and I think gratefully, accepted by those present, and the discussion had moved on to new business. 

All the time, my mind held on to the image of Roger's car, the location and importance of which, I alone knew. This car, which Tom had somehow gotten out of the tree, and which was now opening up to my probing hands. 

The secret compartment was easy to find, as the panel no longer fit properly into the twisted frame. I pulled out a notebook, three audio tapes, a videotape, and a scorched fragment of bright red fabric. The metal octagon was not there. Damn. 

I took the contents of the secret compartment upstairs to the vault. Roger had considered them worth Jonathan's life. But now, luck, and a little initiative, had placed them in my hands. 

The temptation to spend the rest of the night examining Roger's evidence was intense, but I couldn't afford to do it. I didn't even open the notebook, out of fear that I wouldn't be able to make myself close it. I needed to see a board about a buyout in the morning, and it was a long drive to Metropolis. 

I had to make the buyout a fait accompli while my father was still doped up in intensive care, while the board still assumed that my father would hand the reins of LuthorCorp over to me as soon as he was lucid, while the board members were still willing to do anything to stay on my good side. 

I was too excited to sleep, and needed a couple of drinks to calm down. Tomorrow, I would get the plant. It was the beginning of LexCorp. And that wouldn't even be the high point of my day. Tomorrow night, I would get all of Clark Kent's secrets. 

* * *

II. The Birth of LexCorp 

I arrived early for the meeting, but my lawyers were already there. They had all the necessary papers: Articles of Incorporation, Corporate Bylaws, reams of the stuff. I'd had them working on this for months. Now, it was all hanging on a vote. 

After waiting so long, I had expected more drama, but the meeting was almost anticlimactic. In my father's absence, nobody opposed the buyout. I made my case, I got the vote, we signed some papers, I went back to my father's office with my lawyers, I signed a lot more papers, I left. 

Almost certainly for the last time. Once my father got wind of my activities, I would never be allowed back in the building. Except maybe with my hands tied behind my back, and duct tape over my mouth. 

On my way to the parking garage, I called Clark. The machine answered, which wasn't surprising, given that it was the middle of the day. 

"Clark, we've dropped paper. It's real. Come by the plant tonight. I'm going to try to get a little celebration together." 

My next stop was the office of my favorite party planner. 

"5,000 people?! Tonight?! In Smallville?! Lex, are you out of your mind?" 

"Sometimes, but it's never bothered you before." 

"It can't be done, Lex." 

"Nothing fancy, Michelle. Chips, soft drinks, whatever." 

"You have no idea what you're asking." 

"If that were true, I'd be trying to do it myself." 

"Why do you do this to me, Lex?" 

"Because you're the best, Michelle. Where else would I go?" 

She sighed. "What time?" 

Hitting the road to Smallville, I called Gabe. 

"Hoist our colors, Gabe. LexCorp is open for business." 

There was a lot of shouting at the other end of the line. Chloe's high-pitched squeals threaded through it. Small bits of information traveled back and forth. Eventually, Gabe and I managed to have a whole conversation. 

The two of us, with a lot of help from Chloe, had made a sign out of strips of fabric. No, all right, Chloe handled the fabric from beginning to end. Gabe and I spray painted the tentative new LexCorp logo on it, and rigged it so it could be lowered from the roof of the plant and cover the LuthorCorp logo. 

Now, Gabe would lower the sign, blow the plant whistle, and start the phone tree. Tonight, an informal party. Tomorrow, we were back on the job. I don't know how fast I drove, only how good I felt, and I was back in Smallville in seemingly no time at all. 

Gabe had instructions to invite everybody. My main goal was to make sure that as many people as possible were at the plant tonight. Well, not necessarily at the plant. Just, anywhere but the woods. 

I was going to unlock the gates to the plant, but they were already open. There were four guards at the gates, where we usually had only two. The sounds of machinery assailed me as soon as I walked in. 

"Welcome back, Lex." 

"Gabe, what is all this? What are you doing?" 

"Just getting ready for tomorrow, Lex." 

"Getting ready?" 

"You know, running diagnostics, flushing the system, charging the generators, stocking supplies..." 

"Everybody's back?" 

"No, just a skeleton crew. Except, more people have been showing up." 

Michelle's people were actually the last to arrive. I had scheduled the party for after dinner, but so many people showed up during the afternoon that I had my clerks call every pizza shop in town and start placing orders. LexCorp's first official act was to run a tab. 

Michelle arrived with tables just ahead of the pizzas, and the whole party was pulled together after it was underway. I made the mistake of catching Michelle's eye while the sound man was complaining to her about not being able to set up. She looked ready to kill me. I walked off in another direction. 

"The sign looks great, Lex." 

"Thanks to you," I said, turning to face Chloe Sullivan. I'd cultivated her friendship recently, as I was trying to hook Clark up with her. "I'm sorry the dance was so rudely interrupted by the weather." 

"That's not all," she said. "Didn't you hear?" 

"What?" 

"Clark left the dance when the storm hit." 

"He didn't." 

"At least, I had a way to get home. I drove." 

"I can't believe he left you stranded." Where was that boy when I wanted to garrote him? 

"So, of course, I gave him the 'Let's just be friends' speech." 

"And he, of course, agreed." 

"Without a protest." 

"I probably shouldn't divulge this dirty male secret, Chloe..." 

"Oh, this sounds good." 

"Some guys need to be bonked on the head and dragged back to your cave before they understand how you feel about them." 

"Guys like Clark." 

"Clueless as they come. I don't know why. He likes you. I know it." 

"Well, I'm out of time for the bonking and dragging." 

"When does your internship start?" 

"Three days." 

"You'll be great." 

"I'll miss this place. And I know dad will miss the plant." 

"He won't get the chance. I plan to send frantic emails every day." 

"Well, as long as you're ready for his long-winded replies." 

"Email me, Chloe. I want to know what's going on. And tell me if there's anything you need." 

"I will, Lex." 

"Oh, and um, you know, Metropolis is a wonderful place to practice your bonking and dragging techniques." 

"Did you just say that?" 

"Unless it comes back to me through your father, in which case I'll deny everything with my dying breath." 

"It's our secret. Goodbye, Lex." 

"Thanks. Goodbye, Chloe." 

I watched her walk away into the crowd. I wished Clark were less useless around women. Chloe had the rare gift of knowing how to keep her mouth shut without ever seeming to. A man with a lot of secrets needs a mate like that. 

Chloe and I had wandered to the edge of the crowd, and now I went back in to mingle. Handshakes, thanks, and congratulations came at me from all sides. I was surprised at the number of people I knew. When had I met all these people? I was more a part of Smallville than I realized. It was a good feeling. 

Needing something to drink, I made my way to one of the tables. There was Gabe, pouring himself a soft drink. 

"Is there anything I can say to make you stay, Gabe?" 

"Lex, you know I already told my uncle I'd go back to Metropolis and take over the store." 

"But you've mortgaged your house for LexCorp." 

"And as a stockholder, I'll make a profit when you do, Lex. I don't have to be working here." 

"You managed our ascent to solvency, Gabe. You're one of the main reasons I thought we could make it. What am I going to do without you?" 

"Thank you, Lex, and it's been an exciting time, but you can get anyone. My family can't." 

"If you think _that_ was exciting, stick around." 

"My uncle has already made arrangements for us. And this way, Chloe has a place to live in Metropolis during her internship." 

"She's welcome to use my penthouse." 

"No, Lex. I'm sorry." 

"Look," I sighed, "Chloe has to go to school somewhere in the Fall. Don't put your house on the market, yet. Go and give the family business a try. I'll hold your job open until the start of school. If you don't come back, I'll find someone else." 

"Thanks, Lex. And, you know..." 

"Yes?" 

"Chloe's off to my uncle's in two days, but I was going to stay and get our stuff ready to ship. I could stay, say, a week, and help you get set up." 

"I'd really appreciate it, Gabe. The events of the last week have put us behind schedule. If we can just make our current ship dates, we won't lose our tenuous credibility." 

"We'll make the ship dates, Lex." 

"Thank you, Gabe. Did I mention not wanting you to go?" 

"You'll be fine, Lex." 

I shook his hand and walked away. People were starting to bring beer in. I should make a speech before the crowd got rowdy. I commandeered the sound man's microphone, and got up on a chair. 

"Welcome, everyone," I said. "There's a new corporation in town, and we're it." Cheers. "We've already proven that we can make it as part of a bigger company, and now we're going out on our own, to forge our own destiny." More cheers. 

Tom, he of the impeccable timing, appeared in the back of the assembly, precisely where and when only I would see him. He gave two signals. Camera, check. Videotape, check. Then he exited, stage left. 

"This time, our success will be for ourselves and for Smallville," I continued, "We'll make this town the best place in the world to live. Thank you for your faith, for everything you've put on the line to make this happen, and welcome to LexCorp," I finished, and stepped off the chair to applause. 

"Congratulations, Lex," said Clark, appearing out of the crowd, and shaking my hand. "I knew you could do it." 

I pulled on his hand until I could whisper in his ear: "All this, and now you, too." 

His eyes were shining as I pulled back. "Always, Lex." 

It was the happiest night of my life. 

* * *

III. Frosting on the... 

I called it a night before the party got out of hand. I was directly responsible for a lot of people's financial survival now, and had to watch the late hours. To say nothing of Roger's evidence, which was still waiting. 

My plan to curl up with a good notebook blew a fuse when I walked in the door, and saw the post-it note with the arrow pointing up the stairs. The mystery in the flesh, or the answers on paper. Well, what kind of choice was that? I picked up the post-it note, and went upstairs. 

I opened my bedroom door, after taking the last post-it note off of it. The room was dark, except for a candle burning over my bed. What the fuck? I switched on the light. 

The candle was actually on Clark's naked body, held in place with a lot of messy dark stuff. I walked over to him, and saw that he had coated his stomach with chocolate frosting. What appeared to be letters stood out in white. 

"C L?" I asked. 

"It stands for 'Congratulations, Lex.'" 

"I see." 

"Writing on myself with frosting turned out to be harder than I thought." 

"Thank you," I said, sitting on the bed, and trying not to laugh. 

"Hey, it's not every day my boyfriend achieves CEO-ness." 

"And it's not every CEO who comes home to this. Lucky me." 

"Lex Luthor: today LexCorp; tomorrow the world!" 

"You're a silly boy, Clark." 

"Silly? _I'm_ not the one lying here naked with a burning candle on my stomach. Oh, wait..." 

I laughed. 

"It's your fault, Lex. You're not following the plan." 

"What plan?" 

"You're supposed to make a wish, and blow my candle out." 

"It's pointless to make a wish, Clark, when you're already here." 

"Then, blow my candle out, so I can hug you for saying that." 

I bent down over the candle, and wrapped my lips over the tip. The flame died against my tongue, as I pulled the candle off my young lover with my mouth. His eyes went wide. 

I pulled the candle out of my mouth and licked the frosting off the other end. "Sometime, we'll delve deeper into the erotic uses of fire," I said. 

"You mean I can set you on fire?" 

"Momentarily. But rubbing alcohol and frosting don't mix, so that's another day." 

"Ah." 

"So, does that count?" 

"Does what count, Lex?" 

"Did I properly follow the 'blowing your candle out' plan?" 

"Oh yeah." 

"So, I get a hug." 

It was our first hug since before the storm, and I was on my back with a shirt full of frosting before it was over. Clark's mouth on mine was all tenderness and chocolate. 

"Lex, I'm so sorry." 

"For what?" 

"For not being there. I can't imagine what you've been going through." 

"What happened to you, Clark?" 

"I freaked. About... that reporter." 

"Understandable." 

"Not right away. It hit me later. I couldn't see you." 

"You mean you were horrified by me?" 

"No. But I didn't know what I felt, or what to say to you." 

"And what do you feel now?" 

"You saved my dad's life. I'm grateful." 

"And horrified." 

"Lex..." 

"Can you ever look at me again, and not see a killer?" 

"Lex..." 

"Because it's not a small thing, Clark, and it's never going away." 

"You think I'd rather look at you and see the man who let my dad die?" 

"Well, if you put it that way..." 

"I _do_ put it that way. It was a horrible choice to have to make." 

"You think I did the right thing?" 

"You can't doubt it, Lex." 

"But..." 

"Believe me, Lex." 

"I need you, Clark." 

"I've missed you, Lex." 

No tenderness this time, just the fierce need of two lovers who had been temporarily divided by an incalculable distance. I'm not even sure how we got our clothes off. Somehow, we just managed to get more and more skin out where we could touch it. 

I had been afraid that Clark wouldn't let me touch him again, after I killed Roger, but I'd pushed the fear aside. It was only now, when I was rubbing Clark's skin as though I'd die if I stopped, that I realized just how afraid I had been. 

"Don't ever leave me, Clark." 

"How can I, Lex? You're my life." 

Everything I'd been holding in, just to keep functioning, was trying to get out now that I felt safe, and I was close to tears. At the same time, Clark's body on mine, his cock rubbing against mine, after all these days, had me horny as hell. My mind just gave up, and went into complete meltdown. 

My vision blurred, but my hands didn't need the help. I held Clark, not really knowing why I was punching him in the shoulder. 

"Let go, Lex." 

I did, slowly, just because he asked. He slid down, gently nibbling my skin. I ran my thumbs over his eyebrows, then through his hair, as he got further. He stuck his tongue in my navel, and hummed. I laughed, and locked my ankles over his back, holding him tightly. 

Clark was pressing against my erection as he worked his way down my body. Finally, though, his mouth swallowed me. I nearly came then and there, but he pulled off. 

"Don't Lex, not yet." 

"Why not?" I was seriously confused on this point. 

Clark didn't answer. He knew that it was enough for me that he wanted me not to come yet. He sucked me again, and I moaned, but didn't come. 

His tongue flicked against the underside of my cock. I got louder. He nibbled on me, and I had to practically scream. Just when I thought I couldn't hold on any more, Clark pulled away, and blew warm air on me. 

"Clark, I can't-- I need--" 

"Okay, Lex, anything you need." 

This time, when he brought his mouth down around me, he stayed put. I thrust up into the light scrape of his teeth, the hardness of his palate, the softness of his tongue, the vibration of his humming. The muscles in his cheeks moved gently as he pushed down into my thrusts. He had my balls cradled in one hand, and he ran one finger down my crack. 

As my thrusts got more and more violent, Clark put one hand over my heart. I never got turned on by anyone feeling my heart speed up, until I met Clark. He pushed up to my left nipple, and squeezed, hard. Finally, I was bursting, my back arching, my eyes slightly damp, my mouth filled with a voiceless cry that would never come out, and that I was only ever aware of in moments like this. 

My heart was still pounding, and I was still gasping for air, when Clark's cock was in my mouth. I pushed his foreskin back, to lick his slit. I didn't see him kneeling over me. My eyes were closed, dampness cooling on the base of my lashes. I reached up blindly, grabbed Clark's ass, and pulled him roughly into my mouth. 

I scooted down a little to open up my throat. Clark fucked my mouth, pushing deeper each time. I stamped my feet against the mattress, trying to stave off the languor a little longer. I got one hand between my body and his thigh so that his balls would run against my fingers. 

Clark's sharp breathing was punctuated by soft whimpers. He surrounded me, like a safe, little room of pleasure and love. A room with rhythm. My tongue slid side to side against the underside of Clark's feverish cock. 

"Lex!" he went still, I swallowed, and his come squirted into my mouth. 

When awareness returned, Clark was spooning me. I had the taste of his come in my mouth. The hot, wasabi-like taste that I hadn't had since... Oh, shit. 

"Clark," I said, turning in his arms. 

Sleepy eyes looked concerned. "What is it, Lex?" 

"Clark, we didn't use condoms." 

"I know, Lex. This is the first time I've ever tasted you. You taste great." 

"Clark, you idiot, you knew." 

"Lex, I've never been with anyone but you." 

"I believe you, Clark." 

"And I know you'd tell me if you were with someone else." 

"You can't trust me, Clark. Not anyone. Not with your life." 

"I'll ignore your double standard to tell you something you don't know." 

"What's that?" 

"You're not afraid of disease, Lex." 

"So, what am I afraid of?" 

"You think if I swallow your nasty little Luthor sperm, I'll turn evil." 

"What?" 

"You're afraid of tainting me with your hellspawn DNA." 

Clark waited patiently while I processed this. I had to admit he was right. 

"Thank you, Clark." 

"For what?" 

"For showing me this irrational part of myself." 

"Anything to get all of you. Down to your cute, little sperm." 

"Cute?" 

"Gotta be, don't they?" 

"I don't think I can take any more of this conversation." 

"We don't need the condoms, Lex." 

"Maybe-- As long as there's no one else-- Let me think about it." 

I associated going bareback with earlier days, well, nights mostly, that I didn't want to remember in Clark's presence. I was ashamed to talk about that time in my life with Clark, though he'd surely heard rumors. Using condoms made me feel that I was now someone different, better, with Clark. But I didn't say that. 

"Sure, Lex. We can talk about it some more later. Sleep now." 

Clark rubbed the back of my head with those little circles that I found so soothing. I drifted off, knowing I could talk to Clark. He loved me, difficult as that was to believe, even now. He'd forgive me. I could tell him everything. But... not yet. 

* * *

IV. The Choice that Truth Gives 

Finally, the following night, I opened the vault and got down to some serious study of Roger's evidence. The notebook was filled with small neat handwriting. Damn, the man was meticulous. And organized. Also, not a bad hand at mechanical drawing. His talents had been wasted at that rag. 

The notebook started with the car. His experts' conclusions that I had hit Clark on the bridge, and that he had ripped the roof off my car to get me out. 

He then turned his sights on the Kents. He did some digging into Clark's parents, but stopped when he found that Clark was adopted. Roger had uncovered Clark's involvement in a number of peculiar incidents in Smallville, far more than I knew about. 

Finally, Roger's notes indicated that he'd come to Smallville, and bugged the house. His notes referred to the audio tapes. The tapes were dated. I popped the first one in. 

Clark's parents talking about the farm finances. Stopping suddenly as Clark breezed in, saying that he was going to do his chores. More conversation between his parents. Clark coming back three minutes later, claiming to have done work that, even to one so unversed in farm work as I, clearly should have taken hours. 

Clark talking to his mother. Wishing he knew where he came from. Wishing that there were somebody else like him. Or that he were like everybody else. His mother didn't seem to know any more than Clark did about his origins. 

I certainly didn't need anyone to tell me that Clark was special. But the depth of his alienation bothered me. I had no idea that he felt so alone. He had never even mentioned to me that he was adopted. And he seemed to love Mr. and Mrs. Kent. 

The first tape ended. I somberly exchanged it for the next one. 

"Good evening, Mrs. Kent." I jumped at the sound of my own voice. Roger had taped a conversation between the Kents and me, on the subject of their cows. I cringed at the memory, but let the tape run. The conversation ended and I left. A minute later, the tape had recorded footsteps on wooden planks. Roger had bugged the barn, too. 

"Hey Lex! What are you doing here so late?" Oh God, what _was_ I doing there so late? Had Roger known about Clark and me? 

"Came to talk to your parents about the settlement. What are you reading?" Oh, that conversation. Clark at his most heterosexually confused; I claiming not to be in love. Fine. 

"So, are you planning on asking Chloe or not?" Mrs. Kent, back in the house. She and Clark talking about Clark's feelings for Lana and Chloe. 

"Hi Lex, come on in." Oh, so that's what was going on when I came by with the check. No wonder Clark had barely said a word to me. 

"So you heard." Clark. 

"The Ledger rushed a special edition." Mrs. Kent. Clark was discussing the plant closure with his parents. I've never known another three people who said behind my back exactly what they said to my face. 

"It's just...Lex cares about the town. He said he had big plans." Sweet Clark, defending me to his father. 

That was the end of the tape. The notebook then referred to video taped evidence. Roger's writing made it clear he thought this was absolute, incontrovertible, proof of Clark's special capabilities. I checked the dates on the video tapes, and put the first one in the camera. 

The Kent truck came into view. There were large fence posts in the back. Clark got out. He looked upset about something. He took a fence post out and drove it into the ground with his bare hands. 

Then he did the same with the next fence post. And the next. Not only was he unbelievably strong, he could also judge distance to a nicety. The posts were absolutely evenly spaced. 

All right, that was unlikely. So startling, in fact, that I had hardly noticed Clark's beauty and sexiness as he drove those fence posts into the ground, his muscles barely covered by that bright, red-- wait. 

I picked up the scorched scrap of fabric Roger had in his car. It was a piece of the t-shirt Clark was wearing. My breathing went shallow and I wrapped my hand around the fabric as I watched Clark work. He stopped and thought for a while, then put on his jacket, and got in the truck. 

Which exploded in a fireball. 

Only the certainty that I had made love to Clark the night before kept me alive in that moment. I made this happen. I watched, with no real comprehension, as Clark got out of the truck and stripped to the waist. The tape had run its course, and I was staring at a blue screen, before I breathed again. 

My fist had cramped around the shirt fragment. I pulled my fingers loose, and dropped the fabric. My hand was marked with faint streaks of ash. 

Roger hadn't told me anything I didn't already know in my heart; he just proved it. And for that proof, I had risked Clark's life. Because he could have been killed. I'd seen him get hurt. And nothing in Roger's notes indicated that he knew about that. If Clark were vulnerable, Roger wouldn't know. 

For the first time, I was glad I'd killed Roger. The thought yanked me out of the self-reproach that threatened to drown me. All right. This evidence had come at too high a price for me to ignore any of it. Once I had all of Roger's information, I would decide what to do. 

I looked at the notebook, fearful of what more it might tell me, not about Clark but about myself. Then, I forced myself to read. Oh, there was still one more audio tape. I played it. 

Clark was talking to his parents about Roger. Roger had told Clark he wanted to do a story on him. I think I caught the tail end of that. His parents told Clark to get on with his life. There was an awkward silence. 

"What else?" Mrs. Kent. 

"I think Lex has a piece of the spaceship." I stopped the tape and ran it back. Spaceship? It sounded like spaceship the second time, too. And the third. Clark was talking, in perfectly conversational tones, about a spaceship. 

"Are you sure?" Mr. Kent. 

"I saw it on his desk. It's the missing piece." The octagon, made, Hamilton assured me, of an unearthly alloy. I was too busy watching my world shift to follow the conversation on the tape carefully. Where had I found it, did I suspect? They were very worried about what I would do. 

"When you do your chores, don't use your abilities. And whatever you do, stay away from that storm cellar." Well, I knew Roger's next destination. 

Steps on wood. We were back in the barn. 

"It's me, Clark. You all right?" My voice again. The night of the dance. Despite the upheaval in my soul, I smiled as I remembered tying Clark's bow tie. 

"I've got a little time. Chloe's picking me up." 

"That's very progressive. What happened to the truck?" 

"Farming accident. You know how it is. So, how goes the bailout?" Just like that. Not the slightest flicker of blame for the man who nearly got him killed, who destroyed his family's truck, and who-- oh God-- nearly turned him over to my father. 

If I hadn't killed Roger, he would have gone to my father with this evidence. I was never moving again. I couldn't trust myself not to destroy Clark. No wonder he was afraid to tell me. How could he know what I would do, when I myself didn't know? 

Because, frankly, Clark couldn't have found anyone better suited to destroy him than me. I had the scientific background, the money, the contacts, not even to mention a lifetime of training in ruthlessness. All at the service of a curiosity that had always been out of control. 

Some detached part of my mind was already working up experiments to try. Clark was the answer to many of my most frustrating questions. He was what my scientist self had been waiting for all these years. I could finally know. And all I had to do was betray my lover and best friend. 

I had gotten the present I had wanted all my life, only to find that I couldn't open the package without destroying the gift. Good thing I kept that straight jacket, because I was going to lose my mind before this night was over. And there was still one more video tape, the one Tom retrieved from the woods. 

The Kent farm, the day of the storm. The storm cellar, looming closer. What was Roger thinking, trying to sneak into a storm cellar precisely when there was a storm coming? 

Roger went down a flight of stairs into, well, a hole in the ground. Really, no more could be said about it. At the far end, there was a tarp-covered object. Roger approached the thing, and pulled the tarp off. 

It looked more like a model for a spaceship than an actual spaceship. Whoever had sent Clark wasn't expecting him to return in this thing. It wouldn't hold much more than his lunch. Cute though, as Clark's spaceship should be. 

Roger zoomed in on an octagonal socket. The missing piece was in his hand. His hand started shaking, and the metal piece flew out of his grip. The octagon aligned itself with the socket, turned a few times, then settled into it. 

It was about then, that Mr. and Mrs. Kent came in. The conversation heated up quickly. My name came up, but Roger didn't actually implicate me. The camera ended up on the ground, taping the ship as it came to life. 

The ship diverted the attention of the Kents, and Roger got out with the camera. He hauled ass for his car, Mr. Kent at his heels. The camera was still on. 

I thought I saw something, and rewound the tape looking for the frame. There. Roger certainly had the gift. Just before he dashed into the woods, he looked back, and his camera got a shot of an alien spaceship in flight. 

That was it. A few minutes of the woods, and the tape ended. I sat, numb, not knowing what to think. 

The first thing to do was nothing. I had already made too many mistakes. I should take the time to think about what I had learned, before rushing into action. Except. The ship. Where the hell was it now? 

Had it returned? If so, fine. But if it was still out there, it was a huge threat to Clark's secret. I needed to know. And since Clark wouldn't tell me, there was only one way to find out. I left the vault and locked it, then returned to my room and exchanged my light shirt for a black sweater before going in search of a flashlight. 

If anyone had told me, say, a year and a half ago, when I was lounging in Ibiza mixing Red Bull and Charodei, that I'd be in rural Kansas tonight, breaking into a poor farmer's storm cellar looking for a spaceship... 

Breaking in was hardly the term. The door wasn't even locked. I recognized the interior from Roger's footage. And the place where the ship had been was empty, except for the tarp. 

So, where was it now? Had it gone back to Clark's planet? Had it flown off at random and plunged into the ocean or the Andes or broken up in the atmosphere? It was possible. 

It was also possibly still somewhere near Smallville. If so, and if it were found, an investigation this close to Smallville was a great threat to Clark. 

For Clark's sake, I had to find it first. And I would. Just as soon as I figured out how. 

* * *

V. Getting Off the Ground 

Unfortunately, the ship was only one of many things on my mind. Had my father closed the plant a week earlier, we would have been worse off. But we had a little time, as everybody at least had health insurance through LuthorCorp until the end of the month. My insurance agent showed up the following week with a rental truck full of forms. 

Even with the work they had already put in, the lawyers were running ragged. Too many things just couldn't be done until after the vote, mostly the filing of forms with various government agencies. We were just managing to stay ahead of the deadlines, and were barely legal to operate at all. 

Without the LuthorCorp servers, we had no email, no databases, no intranet, and no web site. Not only did I have to hire an IT department, I had to find someplace to put them. I had Level Three cleaned up, and put them there. 

My idea of having the workers vote on the final LexCorp logo had sounded fine in the abstract, but in practice it meant that we had no stationery until we conducted a poll. The design that Gabe and I had used for the sign won overwhelmingly. My PR people made a run to the service bureau, and printed up interim letterheads in-house. Then they started on the press releases. 

A bank of printers in Human Resources did nothing but crank out modified employment agreements. And we needed new vendor contracts for everything down to light bulbs and toilet paper. I had taken the precaution of having several signature stamps made, so that I didn't have to spend the next two weeks signing forms. 

Instead, I went to our customers and made deals. I'm proud to say that we kept almost all of our old customers, essentially taking them away from LuthorCorp. I also managed to get some new ones, which we desperately needed. We didn't have much of a profit margin yet, and couldn't afford to lose it. 

I still went to the hospital every day. I read my dad the day's top business news if he was lucid; I just stood there and held his hand if he wasn't. If he was asleep when I showed up, I called him later. 

Roger's widow was an oppressive weight on my mind. I wrote her a letter, an 'I knew Roger and respected him, I'm so sorry, if there's any way I can help' letter. I stopped short of offering to pay for the funeral, having recently figured out that this kind of thing is looked on as tacky in some circles. 

My secretary, a lovely woman who made everyone feel at ease, delivered the letter, along with flowers. When she got back, she told me that neither my help nor my presence at the funeral would be appreciated. So, well, that was that. 

Then, yes, there was the ship. If it was anywhere near Smallville, I needed to find it. I was so preoccupied with getting LexCorp up and running, that inspiration didn't hit for two days. 

The helicopter arrived from Metropolis about noon. I had the pilot fly me as high as possible over the fields surrounding the town. I quickly spotted a speck that could only be the ship, lying in a field. I had the pilot continue flying me around for another hour, though, before sending him back to the city. 

Once in my car, I called Tom. 

"Yeah?" 

"Lex. I've just located some experimental equipment that's been missing since the storm. I'll be faxing a photograph and a map to you in about half an hour. Call me when you've retrieved the thing, and I'll meet you at my house." 

"Yes, sir, Mr. Luthor." 

Again, faxing from home was probably unnecessary, but one can't be too careful. Hopefully, the printout of the video capture would be clear enough. I took the opportunity to shower and change, then went back to the plant. The call came around ten that night, when I was still at work. I drove home, and got there just ahead of the truck. 

"You want to store your equipment here, Mr. Luthor?" 

"Just for a week or so. Then, I'll need you to move it again." 

"Yes, sir." 

"Anything turn up at Roger's?" 

"The widow hasn't left the house. People are staying with her until after the funeral. Two of them are sleeping in the room with the safe. I can't get near it." 

"During the funeral, then." 

He nodded grimly. 

The ship was in a black canvas bag. Tom and his assistant, whom he had never introduced, carried the thing upstairs, and took it out of the bag before setting it down by the vault. Tom took his payment, and they left. 

Thanks to a block and tackle that some previous owner had rigged, I was able to get the ship into the vault by myself. It wasn't perfectly safe anywhere. But it was safer here than in an open field, or in the Kents' storm cellar. It had survived the storm intact, except for the empty octagon-shaped socket. I despaired of finding the little metal piece. It was a needle in a town of hay. 

It wasn't as though I was going to keep the ship. I just wanted to look at it for a while. And I would have told Clark that I had it, if I could, if he had told me that it existed. As it was, anything that I could say was more of a confession than I was ready to make. 

I felt guilty as hell. What did it say about me, that I could hide this from Clark? But I was too frazzled to make up a convincing lie, and didn't want to risk my friendship with Clark trying. I had some major making up ahead of me. But, I didn't have time to think about that now. 

I was at work practically 24/7. When I slept, it was on the sofa in my office as often as in my bed. I was still only working on making LexCorp a viable business entity, and had no time to actually run the plant. I utterly relied on Gabe to handle it. He authorized overtime, hired temps, bought equipment, and got us back up to speed. 

The afternoon of Roger's funeral, I went home early. I had no real plans, apart from being alone. I was standing in the conservatory, looking out at the roses, when Clark walked in. One look in his eyes told me that he knew. 

Silently, he took my hand and led me to the bedroom. There, he undressed me, and himself. We had sex without saying a word. Afterwards, he held me until I fell asleep. 

Over in Metropolis, Tom finally had his chance with Roger's safe, but came up empty. Whatever Roger had stashed there, it was long gone. 

Sadly, Clark was bearing the brunt of my overextension. We kept in touch by email, and I was careful to use a special account that I checked only with my handheld. 

I had looked forward to Clark's vacation, but was seeing even less of him now than I had during the school year. Still, we saw each other as often as we could, and it hurts me to admit that it was mostly for my benefit. 

When we did manage to meet, my cool businessman mask would fizzle, and I'd turn into an exhausted, quivering mass of stress. But he was patient, and he kept me sane. I remember those encounters clearly, even when the time around them is just a blur in my memory. 

Gabe ended up staying for two and a half weeks. During that time, he didn't get much more sleep than I did. There was no end to the things that needed to be taken care of. But when we finally surfaced for air at the end of that time, we had a functioning corporation. 

"Well, you did promise me excitement, Lex," said Gabe over drinks at my desk. It was about two in the morning. 

"I wouldn't want you to forget LexCorp." 

"Don't worry, I'll be waking up screaming for years to come." 

"And yet, you're leaving. What _more_ do you need?" 

"Sanity?" 

"Overrated." 

"Someday, you'll want some." 

"Thanks for everything, Gabe." 

"I wouldn't have missed it, Lex. Honestly." 

"How's Chloe doing?" 

"Oh, she having a blast. I don't think she's noticed that I'm not there." 

"Better go after her, then. Come on, let's go home." 

I didn't even bother to put the bottle away. We left the building, locking up as we went. Then, we shook hands in the parking lot, and said goodbye. 

As I reached my car, Gabe drove by with a cheerful wave. I smiled and waved back. Driving out of the parking lot, I looked up at the building. We really had to get a new sign. 

* * *

VI. The Trouble with Borrowing 

Once again, it was past midnight by the time I got home. Once again, I grabbed a glass and a bottle and headed for the vault. I already had a chair in there, not a comfortable one, because I didn't want to fall asleep. 

These days, I was only home if I was so tired as to be worse than useless at work. All I could do was sit and watch the ship, stroke it with my fingers, and have a drink or two, before going to bed. The alien artifact really was a beautiful thing. 

Once over the initial, heavily guilt-laced, shock, I was able to admit that I felt hurt. It was irrational to expect Clark to trust me more than I trusted him. He had no reason to have more faith in me than I had in him, or in myself. 

But I sometimes thought that he did, just because he was the better person. His faith in me felt good. And knowing, that what he saw in me caused him to not trust me, hurt. I wanted to be angry with him for that, but he was right. 

But the thing that bothered me most was the implication that the only way I could have a friend was to import one from another planet. There is nothing of great moment that is not, at its core, intensely personal. Or maybe Lady Truth just enjoys coming down hard on me, something I've long suspected. 

I had meant to send the ship to Hamilton. But the more I thought about it, the worse the idea sounded. Hamilton was too prone to losing things. He was also somewhat unpredictable and unreliable, and seemed to be getting more so. A talented and dedicated man, but he didn't have enough left to lose. 

I would never forgive myself if Clark lost his ship forever because I had taken it. And I was sure to be causing him anxiety every day that I kept it. Who wouldn't be frantic over a missing spaceship? 

Except, he didn't seem concerned at all. Maybe he thought the ship had gone back to wherever it came from. After all, what were the odds that it would lie undetected for so long? Or maybe he thought it had been destroyed in the storm. 

Or maybe I was just rationalizing. I had to give it back. But how? 

I could just see myself trying to give the ship back to Clark while pretending that I didn't know it was his to begin with. 'Look, Clark, I found a spaceship. Would you like it? I really have no place to keep it, nor any curiosity about it at all. Do you think your dad will make you give it back?' Right. 

Put it back in the storm cellar? The Kents could pretend that it just flew back by itself, like a homing pigeon that can open storm cellar doors. The trick was avoiding detection by someone with powers. Plus, I couldn't carry the ship by myself, and tracks would show. And I absolutely refused to involve anyone else, ever again, where the Kents were concerned. 

I had to put the ship somewhere, and make sure that Clark was the next person to show up there. But, no, it was harder than that. I couldn't put the ship just anywhere. The problem was the missing piece. 

I had no way of finding it. The only person who might have that power was Clark. But even _he_ probably had no chance unless he knew where the ship had come down. 

So, I had to put the ship back where I'd found it. Then, I had to get Clark there. But, how could I get Clark to go wandering through somebody else's field? I was thoroughly stuck on this point. 

Maybe because part of me didn't want to give the ship back. Suppose Clark never trusted me enough to tell me about it? I'd always know that it existed. And I'd never see it again as long as I lived. That was too much like having an itch I couldn't scratch for the rest of my life. 

* * *

VII. Waking Up 

"Lex?" 

Warm hand on my stomach, shaking me awake. Where was Mr. Kent? Clark had told me last night, but I wasn't now awake enough to remember. 

"Mmm?" 

"It's time for you to wake up, Lex." 

"Mmm." 

"Wow, that didn't sound anything like a groan." 

"Mmm?" 

"I think you're finally caught up on your sleep." 

"Mmm." 

"And, look, when I shake you like this," 

"M - m - m - ?" 

"you're all loose and relaxed." 

"Mmmmmm." 

"My boyfriend's back! My boyfriend's back!" 

Clark pounced on me, and I felt myself responding with an abandon that I thought I had lost. We tumbled around on the bed, kissing. 

"Clark, let's go to Metropolis this weekend." 

"Metropolis?" 

"I want to celebrate your birthday properly." 

"You came to my party." 

"Briefly. I didn't even get you a present." 

"Lex, half the people at my party couldn't have been there if you hadn't reopened the plant. That's the best present I got." 

"I'm glad, but I want to make your birthday really special." 

"You did, Lex." 

"I just need to get away, and lavish attention on my gorgeous and incredibly patient boyfriend." 

"You can lavish now..." said Clark hopefully. 

"Clark, I have to go to work." 

"Haven't you noticed? You're the boss." 

"All the more reason for me to set the good example." 

"You worked around the clock for three weeks straight." 

"Clark..." 

"Are you turning into your father, Lex?" 

"What?" 

"All business, and no time for the people who love you." 

"You're evil, Clark." 

"Am I?" 

"No. You're perfectly right, and that's even worse." 

"Being right is worse than being evil?" 

"In almost every case." 

"Stay, Lex." Slow lick along my jaw. 

"Uhh. All right. You win." 

Clark grinned as he reached over and opened the drawer, but he froze when my cell rang. 

"Ignore it, Clark." 

"No, Lex," sighed Clark. "Nobody calls at this hour unless it's an emergency." 

"I will _never_ get this right," I muttered as I took the phone from him. "Lex." 

"Lex, these idiot doctors are finally letting me return to Metropolis. Get the helicopter." 

"That's great, dad. I'm glad you're so much better. Is there a helipad at the hospital?" 

"On the roof. I would have called the pilot myself, but I forgot the number. It's in memory on my cell, but somebody let the battery run down." 

"Dad, I'm sorry. It didn't occur to me to recharge your cell phone battery." 

Imperfectly stifled laughter, muffled by a pillow, came from Clark's side of the bed. 

"Is someone with you, Lex?" 

"It's a dog, dad," I improvised. My father topped the list of people who shouldn't know about Clark and me. "I've been thinking of getting a dog, so I offered to take care of this one while the owner is away." By now, Clark had gotten a dog collar out of the toy chest, and was lying in front of me, wearing nothing else. 

"But I don't know dad. He's pretty annoying." Clark lunged at me, and bit me on the thigh. 

"Ow!" I slammed the phone down into the bed to muffle the sound. "Shit! Bad dog!" And I have to say that there's never a rolled-up newspaper around when you want one. "Sit!" Clark sat. "Stay!" Clark stayed. But if he was going for contrite, he was several levels of amusement away from pulling it off. 

"Sorry, dad, I dropped the phone." 

"Just call me when you've arranged for the helicopter." 

"I'll get right back to you, dad." 

"You, stay." Clark had been on the verge of pouncing on me again. "I have to make two more calls." 

"Gail, it's Lex," I said, when my father's secretary answered. "Send the helicopter. My father's going back to Metropolis." 

"That excellent news, sir, but I'm sorry, the pilot has a dental appointment this morning. He can be there in three hours." 

"That's fine. He can land on the hospital roof." 

"I'll tell him, sir." 

"And have a car stand by." 

"Yes, sir." 

"Oh, and call my father's house. Warn the staff." 

"Mr. Luthor isn't going to the hospital, sir?" 

"He is, but I'm not going to be the one to tell him that." 

"I understand, sir." 

"Get his doctor out there to do it." 

"Yes, sir." 

"That's it for now. Thanks, Gail." 

I glared at Clark, daring him to try anything. He stuck out his tongue and panted. 

"Dad, slight delay with the helicopter. It'll take three hours." 

"I can't leave those people alone for a minute." 

"I'll come by before that, and pack your things." 

"You know where to find me. How's the dog?" 

"Behaving for the moment. I'm giving him another chance before sending him to a kennel." 

"Just be firm, Lex. It's the only way." 

"Yes, dad. Goodbye, dad." 

It's hard to put a cell on a nightstand when someone pounces on you while licking your face. I ended up on my back. The cell ended up on the carpet. 

"My dad said I should be firm with you." 

"Okay," said Clark, grabbing my cock. "Did he say I could help?" 

"Aaah. We didn't cover that point, but I think it's all right." 

"Cool!" said Clark, stroking me. 

"Ohohoh, I may even forgive you for biting me." I turned my leg. "Look, it's bruising." 

"Hey, you called me a dog. And annoying. And threatened to send me to a kennel." 

"Your point?" 

"I should bite you again." 

"On my ass." 

"What?" 

"Put a hickey on my ass." 

"Roll over." 

Maybe Clark really was hurt by my words, or maybe it was just residual tension from the last month, but his teeth felt as though they were breaking my skin, not just my capillaries. I bucked up into his mouth, but he held on. I took a deep breath, and tried to stop struggling. 

He let go then, and gently licked the bite, before starting to suck the hickey into being. 

An alien was sucking a hickey into my ass. Clark could be anywhere he wanted, doing anything he wanted, and he was here, doing this. It seemed...what? A monumental waste? A cosmic crime? How could he? Because, frankly, if _I_ were the powerful alien, I'd go for a better epitaph than 'I came, I bit, I sucked.' 

On the other hand, he was just one year into high school, all appearances to the contrary notwithstanding. And he wasn't raised to be ambitious. (Thanks, dad.) But he was not going to spend the rest of his life pounding posts into the ground on a backwater farm. I wouldn't let him. 

Even if it meant I had to lose him. Once he had a wider perspective, he probably wouldn't find me so interesting anymore. I was just grateful that he wanted me now. Precisely now. After lifting his lips from my ass, Clark put his hand under my hip and lifted. I raised my ass and spread my legs. 

But why be negative? Maybe our respective destinies wouldn't pull us apart. I heard the snap of the lube cap. Clark's finger entering me caused a searing need to shoot through me like a wild fire, and I knew I could not let go. Not ever. Nothing could make me. 

I swam back up to coherence and looked back at Clark. 

"Clark?" Beautiful, lust-glazed, green eyes turned and slowly focused on me. "Clark, I want you to know that I will always, always love you." 

Clark's mouth moved silently, as though he couldn't quite figure out how to use it. His voice was low and almost broken when he spoke. "And not even close to orgasm. Must be the real thing." 

"It is. You are. We are." I struggled up to a kneeling position and Clark moved closer, putting a hand on my chest to help me up. I leaned back against him and put one hand behind his head to guide his mouth to mine. 

Just before he kissed me, he said: "That's good, Lex. Because I'm never letting you go. I can't ever love anyone else like I love you." 

I ran my hand down his neck to his collarbone. His pulse speeded up when he pushed another finger into me and I moaned into his mouth. Then, he grabbed my cock. 

"Lex, I want to see your eyes when I fuck you." 

"Um," I said, trying to figure out how to turn my body without causing Clark to move his hands from the more sensitive parts of my anatomy. "Sure. I can do that. Hold on." I turned myself carefully. 

"You know, I could just let go for a minute." 

"No! It's more fun this way. I can feel your fingers twisting in-- oh, God, oh--" 

"Hey, wait for me." 

"I'm not going anywhere, Clark." 

Clark ripped a condom package with his teeth, and put the thing on one handed. We hadn't had the condom talk yet, and he wouldn't presume. 

"Lex, promise me we'll always be together." 

"One way or another, Clark, we'll always be together." 

"Promise!" Clark's cock rammed into me, hard. 

"Oh, God, Clark--" 

"Promise!" Another hard thrust. 

"I promise," I managed to gasp, just before going completely nonverbal. 

The need for forever was in his eyes, as I'm sure it was in mine. His warm hand around my cock pulled with every thrust into my body. I spread my legs further and raised my hips, and he filled me more completely than I can say. 

His eyes were wild, and his dark, wavy bangs flopped against his forehead. There was a lot of movement around his mouth, but only intermittent sounds. I reached up and stuck a finger in his mouth. He sucked on it, and moaned. 

The thrusting got faster, and I had to hold on to the sheets. My breathing went hard and erratic, as the pressure in my body built up just under my skin. Clark's hand pumped my cock faster and harder until it was almost unbearable. 

I'm not sure who climaxed first, but it was the closest to a simultaneous orgasm that I'd ever been with anyone. Waves of pleasure washed over me, and Clark's body was on mine, pressing my cock between us. Our mouths pushed together desperately, as though we were each other's only hope. 

Clark pulled out and collapsed next to me, one heavy arm across my chest rising and falling with my slowing breaths. I only moved to clean my come off my stomach, after it got cold. Some of my come had landed on Clark, too, and it soaked into the sheet. 

"Let me help you clean up," I said, sitting up and turning him over to take the condom off. I tied it off and threw it away while Clark cleaned himself off. Then, I dropped on top of him, riding the motion of his breath, as he looked at me and smiled. 

Clark wanted me, forever. 

From the day that we met, I knew I would give Clark Kent the world. I just never knew he would give me the stars. 

\- End - 


End file.
